


Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

by Marblez



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-11-30 13:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: Set Post Season 3A.Charlie Weasley, currently working for the Ministry of Magic has just found himself loaned out to the MACUSA to help deal with an unusual increase in "supernatural activity" which has been threatening/damaging the muggle population of the town.





	1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer –** I wish I owned these wonderful characters, I really do, but sadly I really don’t.

 **A/N –** This story is set post Season 3A and so will include the Nogitsune story arc…sort of…

**~ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus ~**

**~ Chapter One ~**

Entering what had until recently been Miss Blake’s classroom left the various members of the Beacon Hills Pack feeling a little uncomfortable and on edge.

For the most part it was exactly the same as it had always been, it was a standard classroom after all, but there were enough differences to ease the tightness in their chests; the clock had been moved to the opposite end of the room so that the students could no longer see it without turning around, a second bookcase had appeared and both were now crammed full, the teachers desk was already a cluttered mess and a man’s brown leather jacket was hung over the back of the teachers chair. Oh, and there were dragons _everywhere_ ; pictures, statues, a coffee mug, even what appeared to be an antique portrait of a handsome young man dressed in clothes of the Victorian era standing in front of a large blue scaled dragon.

“Think the new teacher has a thing for dragons?” Scott snorted as he dropped down into his chosen seat.

Stiles snorted, taking the table behind his best friend as Allison had already nabbed the one beside him. Isaac took the one on her other side whilst Lydia slid elegantly down into the seat beside Stiles.

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement, Scotty,” Stiles muttered as their classmates, equally as bemused by the décor, began taking their seats. “I think the phrase you should have used was ‘Gee, think the new teachers _obsessed_ with dragons?’”

Scott scowled back at his best friend as he protested,

“I do not say ‘ _Gee_ ’, Stiles…”

“Anyone else feel like they’re being watched?” Allison piped up before Stiles could respond.

As one they frowned, the two werewolves focusing on their enhanced senses for a moment.

“Yes,” Scott eventually agreed with is ex-girlfriend. “But I can’t…”

“Good morning, everyone,” a deep, unfamiliar voice cut off the young werewolf’s answer as their new English teacher strode into the room. “My name is Mr Weasley but I’d prefer it if you called me Charlie whilst inside my classroom; any time I hear someone call out ‘ _Mr Weasley’_ I can’t help but think my father’s standing behind me.”

Silence.

It was like the entire class was under some sort of spell, captivated by the handsome older man before them.

To call him broad-shouldered was an understatement.

Mr Weasley, or Charlie, wasn’t particularly tall but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in muscle. In fact his arms were so muscular that his baby blue shirt was stretched so tight that the seams looked ready to burst at any moment.

He wore no tie and his shirt had the top three buttons undone, confirming that the heavy smattering of freckles adorning his somewhat weather-beaten face continued down the rest of his body, giving him the appearance of having a light tan.

Scott and Isaac’s supernatural eyesight picked out every little scar adorning their teachers exposed skin whilst everyone else only picked up on the most visible ones; a split in his left eyebrow, a patch of twisted skin on the right side of his neck like it had been badly burnt and several raised scars on his fingers, knuckles and the backs of his large hands.

His legs, encased in smart black trousers, appeared to be just as muscular as his arms but only Lydia’s gaze moved low enough to notice that he was wearing a pair of impossibly dark blue leather boots rather than the simple black shoes most teachers tended to wear.

“Now I’m unsure what you had begun with your previous teacher so you might as well forget it, wipe the slate clean so to speak,” Charlie announced, running his fingers almost nervously through his messy red hair, causing it to stick up even more on that one side. “We’re going to begin by analysing a piece of classic literature by an internationally renowned author; ‘ _Pride and Prejudice_ ’ by Jane Austen.”

Stiles’ hand shot up into the air.

“Yes, Mr…?”

“Stilinski, call me Stiles,” the somewhat exhausted looking teenager responded with one of his trademark grins. “Are you English? Only you’re definitely not American with that Mary Poppins accent you’ve got going on.”

Charlie smiled, revealing a set of slightly crooked teeth.

“Yes, Mr Stilinski, I am English,” the teacher confirmed without hesitation. “I grew up in a village called Ottery St Catchpole in Devon. That’s on the South Coast, part of the West Country. I went to school in Scotland, however.”

“Cool.”

“I’m glad you think so, Mr Stilinski,” Charlie responded, moving over to the new bookcase and retrieving a large stack of paperback books. “These are yours to keep so please make as many notes as you see fit. Take one and pass the rest on.”

“How much do they cost?” Isaac piped up somewhat nervously.

“Nothing, Mr…?”

“Lahey. Isaac Lahey.”

“Mr Lahey,” Charlie echoed calmly. “They’re excess stock from my last teaching post and already paid for.”

His heart thumped out of rhythm causing both Isaac and Scott to frown slightly.

He was lying.

But…why?

“So once you’ve all got a copy let’s get to work on chapter one with its famous opening line. Now, a volunteer to read aloud…” Charlie murmured, smiling as a few hands went up including Allison and Lydia’s. “You, Miss…?”

“Argent,” Allison supplied readily as she opened up her copy of the book. “Allison Argent.”

“Thank you. Then if you would begin, Miss Argent?”

Allison cleared her throat discretely and then began to read aloud,

_“It is a truth universally acknowledge, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”_

~ * ~

His identification charm had detected the supernatural members of his first class as soon as he’d entered the room and by the end of the hour he had learned all of their names; Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey were both a sub-species of Werewolf and were obviously part of the same Pack. Lydia Martin was a Banshee and appeared to be in the same circle of friends as the two werewolves if the less that subtle communication during class was any indication.

Lastly there was Kira Yukimura, a new student who appeared to be struggling to make any friends as she spoke to no one and spent the hour staring wistfully at the other students.

She, his charm informed him, was a dormant Kitsune.

A sigh of relief escaped him as the door closed behind the final student to exit the classroom following the painfully loud bell.

Why had he agreed to this undercover assignment?

Teaching, even teaching muggles, was _hard_.

He’d finally returned to England after years of working abroad so as to be closer to his nieces and nephews, taking a position at the ‘Ministry of Magic’ in the ‘Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures’ back in 2006 shortly after the birth of Ron’s daughter, Rose, and had been kept busy with assignments ranging from the painfully mundane to the alarmingly dangerous ever since.

That didn’t stop him missing his dragons, however, so regular visits to the reserve had become part of his routine.

“Don’t you have to prepare for your next class, Mr Weasley?”

The teasing voice of his former mentor, sadly lost in a horrific accident a year before Charlie had left the reserve, emanated from the now moving portrait hanging on the wall. Hallam, his mentor, had turned to give Beatrice, his favourite dragon, the attention she deserved.

“No, I have a free period to recover from that one, thank Merlin,” Charlie sighed deeply, dropping down into his seat. “Why did I take this assignment?”

Hallam chuckled.

“Because your brother asked you to,” the former head of the dragon reserve answered simply. “And because your boss ordered you to.”

“…fair point.”

Percy, recently promoted to Head of the ‘Department of Magical Transportation’, had come to him the day before he’d received official notification of the assignment. He had become a highly respected member of the Ministry in the years following the ‘Battle of Hogwarts’ and was one of Kingsley’s trusted advisors during the Ministers second non-consecutive term.

He had explained in his clear, clinical way, that President Quahog of the MACUSA (‘Magical Congress of the United States of America’) had personally requested their assistance due to the number of dark and/or magical creatures involved. The Ministry, as everyone knew, was decades ahead of the MACUSA in these sort of matters due to their early restrictions regarding beasts and other magical creatures such as those he had already come across in the town of Beacon Hills. In fact, up until thirty or so years ago, helping a so called dark creature such as a werewolf or a banshee was a punishable offence in America.

“The town of Beacon Hills, California has had an unprecedented rise in the number of so called _supernatural events_ ,” Percy had explained, using his wand to conjure up a map in order to show the exact location of the town along with a list of the instances. “It has become so bad that the MACUSA fears exposure; a number of muggles are already aware and/or involved with the dark creatures now residing in the town.”

“And what’s the assignment?” Charlie had asked, his voice growing sharper with each word as he had made his disapproval of the MACUSA’s continued use of the death penalty had been perfectly clear. “Capture? Control? Contain? Or do they want me to make it _go away_?”

That he could never understand.

“No,” Percy had stated clearly, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of his expensive looking robes. “Monitor the situation but only intervene if completely necessary and by that I mean necessary for either the safety of the town or the secrecy of your charges.”

“My _charges_?!”

“Yes. Consider yourself the Head of the ‘Beacon Hills Reserve for _Supernatural_ Creatures.’”

He’d debated turning the assignment down all evening but in the end had merely nodded his head when his boss had officially informed him about it.

His reasoning?

At least he trusted his morals enough regarding the safety and continued of all those involved in the situation.

No one had mentioned exactly what his cover story would entail, however, and if he ever found out whoever it was who had come up with the whole _replacement English teacher_ angle he would give them a piece of his mind.

“So I counted three…”

“Four,” Charlie corrected the portrait, gesturing to where the four children had been sitting as he listed the various species. “Two Werewolves, a Banshee and a dormant Kitsune.”

“Ah,” Hallam muttered. “I missed the Kitsune. Good luck with that one if it comes online.”

Charlie groaned, banging his head on the cluttered desk.

He’d never met a Kitsune in person but he’d read enough about them to know how dangerous they could be, both before they’d learned to control their gifts and afterwards. It was painfully common to hear about Kitsune’s going bad, corrupted by their power.

“Do you think that’s all of them?”

Charlie snorted.

“Not by a long shot…”

~ * ~

 **A/N** **–** So…I probably shouldn’t have started another story but…oh well. What’s one more? LOL. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Haven’t made my mind up about relationships as of yet as I quite like the idea of Charlie being asexual but I also kind of like the idea of pairing him up with Sheriff Stilinski or Jordan Parrish so comments  & suggestions are more than welcome. X


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer – I wish I owned these wonderful characters, I really do, but sadly I really don’t.

A/N – This story is set post Season 3A and so will include the Nogitsune story arc…sort of…

~ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus ~

~ Chapter Two ~ 

Charlie had been teaching at Beacon Hills High School for less than a week and already he had acquired a bit of a reputation, or so his fellow teachers had informed him. His students liked him, he’d been both pleased and surprised to discover, and considered him to be one of the “cool” teachers. Several of the girls and a fair few of the boys had been overheard discussing his handsome appearance and “sexy” accent and he honestly didn’t know how he should feel about that, flattered or concerned. What had amused him the most about his supposed reputation was the fact that his students still couldn’t get their heads around his end of lesson routine/protocol; he was apparently the only teacher in the school who didn’t allow their students to just up and leave as soon as the bell rang signalling the end of class. 

He made them wait, just as he’d been made to wait throughout his education, until he had verbally dismissed them, usually after reminding them about the homework he’d set them. 

Should anyone start to pack up before he had dismissed them then they received a so called “extra credit” assignment to complete along with the rest of their homework; so far he had given out forty-seven “extra credit” assignments, fifteen to the same student who was determined to push him as far as he could. It was a shame he couldn’t tell them that he’d spent most of his lives working with dragons who also liked to push their keepers to see what they could and couldn’t get away with so a rebellious student was all but child’s play. 

He was wrapping up their discussion about the themes of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ when the end of day bell rang, drowning out Lydia Martins detailed explanation. Charlie’s hand shot out, pointing at a student who had made as though they were going to pick up their bag. 

“Please, finish your explanation, Miss Martin.” 

He made a mental note of which of her classmates sent glares her way as Lydia, the highest performing student in the entire school, continued her explanation of the theme of “class.”

“Though Mr. Collins offers a recognisably extreme example, he is not the only one to hold such views. His conception of the importance of class is shared, among others, by Mr. Darcy, who believes in the dignity of his lineage; Miss Bingley, who dislikes anyone not as socially accepted as she is; and Wickham, who will do anything he can to get enough money to raise himself into a higher station,” the young woman continued, speaking ever so slightly quicker than she had been before the bell rang. Several of her peers shifted in their seats, a move Charlie remember performing numerous times during his lessons at Hogwarts when he was anxious for the lesson to end. “Mr. Collins’s views are the most extreme and obvious. The satire directed at Mr. Collins is therefore also more subtly directed at the entire social hierarchy and the conception of all those within it at its correctness, in complete disregard of other, more worthy virtues. Through the Darcy-Elizabeth and Bingley-Jane marriages, Austen shows the power of love and happiness to overcome class boundaries and prejudices, thereby implying that such prejudices are hollow, unfeeling, and unproductive.”

Lydia smiled, concluding her explanation by dropping back down into her seat. 

“Excellent, Miss Martin,” Charlie commended her, using what he was coming to use as his ‘teachers voice’ which reminded him a little too much of Professor McGonagall at times. “We shall continue discussing the other themes in the novel during our next class. Those of you who have yet to finish reading the novel please ensure that you do so and yes, I know exactly who has and hasn’t completed their required reading. Get to it. Class dismissed.” 

Perching on the edge of his desk he watched with an amused smile as his students literally tumbled out of the room in their haste to leave, only those he had identified as supernatural creatures and their close friends taking their time to pack up their things and leave calmly. 

“You’re getting worryingly good at this teaching malarkey,” Hallam announced from his portrait once the door had swung shut behind the last student to leave the classroom. “Are you sure you didn’t miss your vocation? I hardly recognise you for the borderline reckless young dragon keeper I took under my wing, no pun intended, when you first arrived.”

“I know what you mean,” Charlie sighed as he began tidying up the room. “There are times when I hardly recognise myself. But, no, I don’t think I missed my calling to be a teacher; the only reason I’m maintaining my cover as well as I am is thanks to the spells and charms I used to help me study the relevant material in time and the lesson plans Hermione kindly came up with for me which update themselves automatically depending on how far we get.” 

His younger brothers wife was certainly deserving of the title she’d earned herself whilst still at school; Hermione Granger-Weasley was most definitely the smartest witch of their age. 

“And what of your other duties?” 

“Things have been quiet since I arrived,” Charlie announced as he began to gather up his things, not daring to use magic to do so just in case someone came in. “Although I’ve felt what I can only describe as a feeling similar to spell damage in a couple of places whilst out on patrol so I doubt it will remain quiet for much longer. I have, however, managed to identify all of the supernatural creatures residing within the borders of Beacon Hills and I think I’ve figured out which muggles are aware of their existence and which ones aren’t.”

“Impressive.”

He had even gone so far as to create a carefully structured chart containing everything that he had managed to figure out whilst patrolling Beacon Hills under a notice-me-not charm.

Scott McCall had only recently come into his status as a True Alpha, a fact which had taken Charlie by surprise when he’d overheard the boy in question talking about it as such a thing was incredibly rare in this particular sub-species of werewolf, and was still learning what that really meant. He lived with his mother, Melissa, who was a muggle nurse and appeared to be completely aware of the supernatural world and Isaac Lahey, a werewolf and his beta. 

Aiden and Ethan Steiner, students of his who had been missing during his first lesson for as yet unexplained reasons, were werewolves who had formerly been members of the Alpha Pack whose behaviour within Beacon Hills had led to Charlie receiving this assignment. They had lost their Alpha power at about the same time Scott McCall had come into his and now appeared to be attempting to join the Pack that the True Alpha was accidentally creating. 

He had been concerned to discover that they were living alone in an abandoned warehouse; they might be werewolves but they were still only teenagers and deserved a proper home. 

Lydia Martin was the first Banshee that he had ever come across outside of a textbook or a pensieve. He had yet to witness her powers although, given that she only screamed in response to death, that was probably a good thing. She lived at home with her mother, Natalie, a muggle who didn’t appear to be at all aware of the supernatural world that her daughter was a part of, and had already been accepted into four highly respected colleges. 

She reminded him of Hermione, in terms of intellect, and Ginny, in terms of her courage. 

Kira Yukimura, the dormant kitsune who had yet to make any friends as far as he could tell, had only arrived in Beacon Hills with her parents a couple of days before Charlie himself.   
Ken, her father, had been taken on as the new history teacher at the High School and so Charlie had been able to befriend him under the guise of sharing the burden of being the “new guys” and had found himself genuinely liking the older man. He was a muggle but he was very much aware of the supernatural world due to the fact that his wife was a kitsune who had taken a rather strong disliking to Charlie the one and only time they had met. 

No doubt she could sense his magic as easily as his spells allowed him to sense hers. 

He’d expected her to confront him but instead they seemed to have settled into a state of “you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours” and nothing more had been said about the matter.   
Jordan Parrish, a newly arrived Deputy down at the Sheriff’s Station, had triggered Charlie’s identification spell when they’d literally bumped into each other at the local supermarket. It had been all that Charlie could do not to openly gape at the younger man when the spell had informed him that the person apologising to him so profusely was actually a hellhound.

Given that he was obviously unaware of this fact Charlie had placed a monitoring spell on the young man so that he could keep track of him until the hellhound chose to emerge. 

He hadn’t made the connection when he’d first heard her surname but it turned out that Allison Argent was descended from a rather famous lineage of werewolf hunters. How she came to be friends, or rather ex-girlfriend and possible future girlfriend, to Scott and Isaac was still something of a mystery. Her mother, Charlie had learned through the schools most gossip prone teachers, had died under somewhat mysterious circumstances. Her aunt had been murdered, one of the deaths attributed to the supernatural according the file the MACUSA had given him, and her grandfather had disappeared without a trace. In fact her only remaining relative seemed to be her father, Chris, who had a reputation in the world of hunters for being “firm but fair” and the two of them lived in an apartment block not too far from Charlie’s house. They also appeared to patrol the town almost as frequently as he did. 

He’d made a note on the chart to keep an eye out for them as, out of all of the people he had identified, they were the ones most likely to take violent action against him should they ever learn of his true identity. Hunters, no matter what kind, were taught to hate magic. 

Of the people he’d identified it had actually been the absence of two he had been ordered to search out that had puzzled him the most. According the MACUSA’s records the Hale Pack had held the territory of Beacon Hills for over a hundred years until a fire, deemed an accident at the time but was now known to have been arson, wiped most of them out. Of those who survived the fire Laura Hale had since been murdered, Cora Hale had returned to South America after being brought to Beacon Hills against her will and Peter Hale had, rather confusingly, been in a coma, woken up, gone on a murderous rampage, been killed and had the come back to life. The details were rather vague on how all of this had been possible, the witch who had led the investigation into Beacon Hills never actually having visited the town, and so as a side “project” Charlie had been asked to figure it all out. 

However Charlie had been unable to find any trace of Peter Hale or his nephew, Derek, and none of the others seemed to know where they were if the conversations he’d overheard were any indication. He’d already reported this unexpected development to the MACUSA.

Alan Deaton, the town veterinarian, was a reasonably powerful Druid charged with maintaining “the balance” in Beacon Hills and, as protocol dictated, Charlie had made his presence known to the older man. During their discussion Charlie had explained his mission, briefly, and the Druid had welcomed him, explaining that he had not been able to do as much as he could to help those he cared for due to the limitations placed upon him by his Druid faith and the level of power he possessed. He had agreed to keep the fact that a Wizard was monitoring the situation in Beacon Hills a secret so long as that secret didn’t endanger any members of the Pack and Charlie had agreed; if something happened to endanger any of his supernatural charges he would no doubt need to reveal himself anyway. 

The last two people he had added to his already complicated chart were the Stilinski’s, Noah and Mieczyslaw who, quite understandably, preferred to go by Stiles. Both were muggles, their bloodline untouched by the supernatural, and while his son had apparently known about werewolves since Scott had been turned the Sheriff had only learned the truth recently when he had almost been part of a magical sacrifice alongside Chris Argent and Melissa McCall. It was a huge adjustment but the handsome older man seemed to be coping reasonably well. Now Stiles, on the other hand, had triggered a couple of warning signs in the back of Charlie’s mind; there was something…off…about him but Charlie couldn’t quite figure out what that something was. He had noticed that Scott and Allison caused a similar sort of feeling, if to a significantly smaller degree, so whatever was wrong had something to do with all three of them. Deaton had mentioned using a spell on the trio in order to find their missing parents when they’d talked but the Druid hadn’t gone into any details about it; he’d have to ask for those details if the feelings continued or, Merlin forbid, got any worse. 

“Right, I’ll see you in the morning,” Charlie informed his mentor as he pulled on his jacket and picked up his messenger bag, everything he needed easily contained within thanks to the undetectable extension charm he’d placed on the bag when he’d bought it. “Night.” 

“I shall see you tomorrow, dear boy.” 

Offering his former mentor a wave Charlie ducked out of his classroom after switching off the light and headed for the main entrance/exit of the school. He knew that a lot of his fellow teachers preferred to stay on sight and get some of their marking/planning done but given that he used magic to complete both of those tasks he always headed home as soon as possible. Given that he couldn’t drive, never having needed to before taking on this assignment, and had yet to master the art of riding a bicycle without falling off and injuring himself he was left with not option other than walking to and from school as he couldn’t risk Apparating or using a portkey; people needed to see him as nothing more than a normal teacher for his cover to work and sadly that meant being seen to do things the muggle way. 

When he went out patrolling, however, he had charms in place to hide his magic. 

Mercifully it only took him about twenty-five minutes to walk home thanks to the various shortcuts he’d figured out over the last few days and with a cheerful wave to his elderly neighbour, Mrs Cox, who was tending to the roses in her front garden he jogged up the steps onto the front porch of the house that the MACUSA had arranged from him. A discrete wave of his wand unlocked the front door, physically and magically, and he slipped inside. 

It was a nice house, built sometime in the 1930’s or 40’s, he suspected, and had an altogether different feel to the house he’d grown up in and the paces he’d lived since. 

Technically he supposed it was a bungalow, given that everything of importance was all on the ground floor, but there was a room upstairs in the eaves. The previous owners of the house had used it for storage and had actually left a lot of their things behind, prompting Charlie to have to dispose of them so that he could turn the room into his magical sanctum. A couple of carefully constructed wards, some containment spells and a few reinforcement spells and the room was perfect to keep everything magical that he had brought with him. 

Apart from his wand, of course; that stayed with him at all times. 

He’d left the living room, kitchen and dining room pretty much as he’d found them. All he’d done was give them a once over with a couple of industrial strength cleaning spells and swapped out the pictures which had been left behind for this own pictures, mostly of dragons but with a whole wall in the living room dedicated to his ever growing family. The fireplace, which had mercifully been an open fireplace and not a wood burning stove, had been connected to the international floo network by the MACUSA before he’d moved in.

The bedroom at the front of the house, the one which led directly off of the entrance hall, had been transformed into his study and it was this room which he headed into upon entering the property. Sitting at the desk he’d placed in the centre of the room he pulled the essays from within his messenger bag, picked up his self-marking quill and set the thing working on the stack of essays. It had been an extravagant purchase, one he couldn’t really afford, but it was the only way he could think of actually surviving his cover story. 

He’d used the spell which came with the quill to program it to mark the essays to a suitable standard for the subject he was teaching and placed the “muggle worthy” restriction upon it twice. 

He sat there for a moment watching the quill work through the first essay, Allison Argents, making notations in the margins, underlining certain words or phrases and at one point crossing out an entire paragraph with a bold stroke and writing something in capital letters beside it. When it had finished the quill scribbled a large B- on the top of the front page, circled it and moved on to the next essay as the first one floated across to start a new pile. 

“Something tells me I’m not going to be very popular when I hand these back,” he chuckled to himself as the quill continued with its ruthless marking, crossing out two paragraphs in a row on the second essay. He had had to make sure that the quill was set up for American English rather than Traditional English as the first thing he’d used it to mark had not been good; every one of his students had gotten an F for spelling things the way they had been taught to. It still caused Charlie some trouble in class, the differences between the two versions of the same language, as he always wrote things on the board how he’d been taught to spell them. The word ‘honour’ had sparked a twenty minutes debate the day before about why it need a ‘u’ in it at all; they’d all eventually had to agree to disagree when the students had reached a stalemate with their teacher. “Well it had to happen sometime.”

Leaving his quill to do his marking for him he pushed himself up out of the chair, stretching his arms above his head briefly before heading out of the study, making his way down the long hall to the master bedroom. He’d used magic to decorate the room how he’d always had his bedrooms ever since he was a boy and sharing with Bill; he’d heard muggles refer to the style as “rustic” but he liked to think of it as “pleasantly basic” with a fair amount of clutter here and there to give it a truly “lived in” look. Colour wise he had gone for various shades of green and brown rather than his house colours, wanting to be reminded of his two favourite breeds of dragon; the Common Welsh Green and the Norwegian Ridgeback. 

Going to his built-in wardrobe he selected a comfortable pair of denim jeans, a reasonably tight white t-shirt and his most recent Weasley jumper knitted by his mother; green overall with a large blue ‘C’ covering almost his entire chest. Changing quickly he slipped his wand down into the special pocket concealed in the back of the jeans, pulled on his oldest and therefore most comfortable pair of trainers and headed to the kitchen to grab a quick cup of tea and a sandwich before going out on patrol. He’d have a proper meal when he got back. 

Visiting the bathroom before he left, another room which he had given a complete overhaul after he’d moved in, using his magic to bring it out of the questionable decade it seemed to have been stuck in, he pulled his jacket back on, cast a notice-me-not charm on himself and slipped out into the fading light of the day. He meandered his way through the town before deciding to take a walk through the woods, something he hadn’t done in a couple of days, and for nearly an hour he neither saw nor heard anything but the birds singing in the trees. 

And then he heard a familiar voice. 

“Do you really think this is going to help?”

“I know that if you think it's not going to help it definitely won't.”

Two familiar voices. 

“So get your head into it, shoot a few and see what happens.”

Making his way towards the voices he found a suitably concealed spot where he could observe Allison Argent and Lydia Martin from. By pure chance he had managed to choose a spot to their side rather than anywhere in front of them otherwise when Allison’s let loose her arrow with significantly less skill than he had been expecting from the hunter, the arrow going wide of the large tree they’d pinned a target to and striking the ground with a thud. 

“Oh.”

Allison sighed, frustrated, and took up another arrow in order to try again. 

This time it struck the ground on the other side of the tree. 

Judging by the looks on both of their faces Charlie assumed that Allison’s aim was usually significantly more accurate than it currently seemed to be. Even from the distance he was at Charlie could see that her hands were trembling almost too much for her draw the string. 

“Maybe hold the string a different way,” Lydia suggested. “Try the Mongolian draw.” 

Allison turned to frown at her friend. 

“What?” Lydia huffed somewhat defensively. “I read.”

It was lucky that Charlie had already cast a notice-me-not charm on himself before heading out as he couldn’t help but let out an amused chuckle at the expressions on both their faces.

“Try it.”

The huntress obeyed, turning her bow until it was parallel with the ground, but it didn’t seem to do any good as this time the arrow didn’t even penetrate into the dirt, rather it just clattered across the ground disturbing the leaves. Charlie frowned and Allison cursed softly. 

“Ok,” Lydia sighed, resting her hands on Allison’s shoulders before trailing them down her arms. “Take a second to close your eyes and imagine the arrow going into the target.” 

For a long moment Allison stood with her eyes closed, her shoulders moving with each deep breath she took, but when she opened them rather than looking calm she looked confused. 

“…did you see that?”

“See what?” 

Allison frowned deeply, reaching down to pick up her quiver. 

“Wait here.” 

Lydia scoffed disbelievingly, “Are you serious?” 

“I'll be right back.”

“You did not just say that.” 

Charlie found himself torn; should he follow Allison, given that she appeared to be suffering some sort of breakdown or perhaps simply a hallucination, or should he stay with Lydia? She was definitely the more vulnerable of the pair…yet something told him to go with Allison... 

So he followed Allison. 

Something was definitely wrong with her. 

“Lydia?” 

Her eyes were following nothing, her head thrashing from side to side.

“Lydia?” 

She drew an arrow from her quiver, knocking it but not drawing the string back. 

“Lydia?” 

This time when she called out there was enough fear in her voice that Charlie was about to remove the notice-me-not charm and make his presence known in order to calm her down when she suddenly brought up her bow, pulled back the string and let her arrow fly, straight and true…directly towards where Lydia was standing frozen in place, mouth open in shock. 

Charlie’s wand was in his hand in a matter of seconds but before he could cast a spell to stop the deadly projectile from striking the terrified redhead in the heart Isaac appeared almost out of nowhere, moving with his superhuman speed to catch the arrow just in time. 

“Oh, my God!” Allison cried out in a panic, dropping her bow to the ground as Isaac turned to stare at her accusingly. Lydia just looked understandably shocked. “Oh, my God, Lydia.”

It came as no surprise when Allison dropped to her knees, a hand pressed over her mouth as her entire body shook, her striking brown eyes welling up with tears. Charlie watched, still hidden from view, as Lydia pulled herself together, gently moving Isaac out of the way so that she could move to comfort her distraught friend. It took Isaac a long moment to follow, discarding the arrow which had almost killed Lydia as he followed in the redheads footsteps. 

“It’s all right, Allison,” Lydia murmured, wrapping her arms around her friends trembling body, rocking the other girl from side to side. Isaac loomed over them but his expression was softening rapidly. “I’m all right, Allison, I promise. Maybe…maybe we should give it a rest. Let’s just…let’s just get you home. We can try again another day. Let’s just…go home.” 

Charlie watched from his hiding place as they gathered up their things, Isaac dealing with the archery supplies, whilst Lydia focused on collecting their handbags. They then focused on guiding Allison through the trees, each of them wrapping an arm around her waist as she continued to apologise over and over again. Lydia countered soothingly every single time. 

“Hmm…” Charlie hummed thoughtfully once he was alone, moving to lean against the tree he’d been hiding behind as he brought the tip of his wand up to his mouth, absentmindedly tapping out a rhythm against his plump lips as was his habit when he was feeling particularly thoughtful. “That was a little bit concerning. I think I shall be keeping a closer eye on her…” 

~ * ~ 

A/N So…I’ve had terrible writers block with this story (after planning it right the way through to the very end) and then BOOM! Wrote this in a single day. Yeah, took me by surprise as well, I can tell you. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I know it was a bit description heavy in places but I needed to set the scene a bit. Comments/Suggestions welcome. X


End file.
